


Blondie

by KatrinaRice



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Brutality, Crimes, Criminal Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), M/M, Mechanic Erwin, Mentions of Murder, Prison, Sci-Fi, Space Prison, Spaceships, alien entities, prisoner levi, space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatrinaRice/pseuds/KatrinaRice
Summary: Levi is stuck. Somewhere deep in space. On the prisonshipThe Marie. The vessel is picking up and distributing criminals on its journey to nowhere. He’s been in this steel coffin for five years, at the verge of losing sanity in his mandatory isolation and hope of ever seeing the ground again.Anyground. Until one day, Levi is finally transferred to a prison on what is probably the most horrid planet of the known galaxies, situated at the end of federal territory before a vast space of uninhabited blackness. An almost abandoned world full of heat, sand, dirt and vicious creatures that want to kill you await him. And then there’s the tedious task he’s forced to do – repairing and refurbishing decommissioned shuttles, jets and any other kind of ex-fleet transportation devices for sale. Objects which he used to steal on a big scale and what actually got him into this situation – what a fucking irony. But Levi has no time to laugh. Because the main mechanic of the shitty prison, and subsequently Levi’s boss, is a brutal, cold and cocky bastard. And what Levi despises even more than having to work with the blond man is the fact that the former lieutenant of the federal fleet is absolutely fucking...hot.
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 26
Kudos: 91





	1. The prison

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doki87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doki87/gifts).



> Happy (SUPER BELATED) birthday to my "secret lover" [D'oki](https://twitter.com/DOKIilarionexd)!
> 
> You are such a wonderful person and I've loved discussing all things eruri and general life since our first chat. You're also an amazing artist and bringing [Fatwin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832321/chapters/52102630) to live with you has been one of the GREATEST eruri experiences for me so far...!
> 
> Thank you for sharing your brain and time with me, for always listening to my ranting and for just simply being awesome. 
> 
> You asked me for mechanic Erwin - and I really, really hope you like my sci-fi take on this!
> 
> For anybody else reading this: Go and check out D'oki's art on Twitter - and leave a comment if you like what you see! This also applies to this fic.
> 
> KAT
> 
> PS: Yes, this is highly influenced by Star Trek because Star Trek is life, thank you.

“Fuck,” Levi huffs as another year passes by silently according to the clock running on Earth time. He hasn’t seen his home planet in years. Probably never will lay eyes on it again. _The Marie_ , the prison ship he’s stuck on, is moving further and further away from it with every passing minute. Levi has no idea what galaxy they are in right now, what their next stop might be, or even when he’s going to eat again – because the new guard responsible for him, Nile, is an asshole. Levi’s only aware of _one_ thing:

He’s never getting out of here. 

A big sigh escapes his throat, and like every New Year’s Eve, Levi’s mind takes him back to all the past celebrations with Furlan and Isabel. All the crazy parties, to all the wild drinking and dancing on _Premus Lax_ , the excessive bar hopping with strangers turned to friends on _Omega 6_ , and the night bathing in the sea on _Sakra Kaal_. He hopes that they are safe now. Furlan and Isabel. His brother and sister, even though they are not connected by blood. Levi thinks of all their deeds, their crimes, their stunts, their deals. And about that last job gone totally wrong. 

He took the blame, let himself fall behind on their escape, ultimately delivering himself to the federal agents so that his siblings could make it to safety.

It’s funny, Levi ponders, how rapists and mass murderers get off so easily, while he’s been shoved into this steel coffin out in the fucking cold to rot here forever. Kept in isolation since day one. For _stealing_.

...then again, he _did_ kill a lot of federal officers _while_ stealing. Not that he had _wanted_ to. But when it’s about kill or be killed – who _wouldn’t_ pull the trigger? And is it his fault that these military idiots, following an allegedly bigger goal of maintaining peace while it’s all about trading routes and resources, willingly risked their lives for a fucking intercooler or _Divinium_ -conduit, or any _other_ part and ship of that exquisite federal technology? No, it isn’t.

Levi groans, the weight of his memories sometimes too hard to bear in this place. 

The only people he’s seen since being beamed onto _The Marie_ are the guards – and the ones appearing in his dreams and his hallucinations. He’s going crazy. He knows. But how can he not when he’s locked up in his cell all the fucking time? 

Ah, they were so good at stealing. Furlan, Isabel and him. Notorious thieves in the known galaxies. And even if that’s why he is here, Levi regrets nothing. He’d do it all over again, if he was given the chance.

But he won’t be. He won’t ever be given a chance to do anything again.

Hours, maybe minutes later after closing his eyes to just fucking fall asleep, the various locks of the highly-secured sliding doors, keeping him locked in, open one by one. And eventually, Nile walks in, accompanied by two other, heavily armed guards, checking quickly whether Levi isn’t up to any bullshit before they close the security doors to his cell again, leaving him and that black-haired rat alone.

“Oi, midget,” the man sneers, sliding a bowl filled with greyish mush of fuck knows what across the floor towards Levi with his foot, most of the shit landing on the floor. “Happy New Year, motherfucker.” 

Nile snickers, and a part of Levi wants to beat this man into a pulp. He broke the nose and jaw of his first guard here. Only needed one second of the man’s negligence to do it. Ah, but remembering the consequences – a week without any food, only dirty water to drink and no clothes to wear – calm him down quickly. After five years in this dump, Levi knows that being left alone for your mind to start rotting and eating shitty mush is not the _worst_ thing that can happen to you on board this ship; and Nile doesn’t actually need a broken nose to look ugly. Rat-man’s genes have done enough on their own. He’s fucked, all right.

Picking up the bowl of vicious food, Levi’s suddenly irritated. Because Nile usually leaves immediately after delivering his meal, if he does it all. But today, he lingers, staring at him.

“What?” Levi snaps.

Nile grins. “Will you miss me?” 

“What? You leaving this shitshow?”

“No. But _you_ are. Tomorrow.”

Levi needs a few seconds to understand the words. But he doesn’t trust them. Nile talks shit all the time. This is probably just another attempt at riling him up. Another way of trying to make Levi feel miserable. As if his life wasn’t miserable enough. “Fuck you.”

Nile chuckles coldly. “Yeah, we’ll miss you loads, too.”

With this, rat-man finally leaves, and Levi swallows down the food tasting like piss and mud.

He dreams of Isabel’s and Furlan’s laughter that night. Something he hasn’t dreamed of for a long period of time. And when he’s done with his poor excuse of morning hygiene in the little steam booth in the corner of his cell, monitored by watchful eyes making sure he doesn’t do any shit or take his life somehow, and he’s dressed in his neon-orange prison uniform, the doors to his cell begin opening up once more.

It’s Nile again, all right. But he’s not alone. And this time, it’s not just two guards doing the routine viewing – it’s a whole _bunch_ of them. Fully armed and ready to wipe him out, if Levi gives them any reason to. But they are not here because of a sudden death sentence, forbidden by official federal law anyways, and Levi’s heart starts beating as Nile approaches him with a set of massive handcuffs used for transporting prisoners.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high, buddy,” rat-man comments, catching the sudden, unmasked look of surprise and, well, _hope_ on Levi’s face. The other prison guards snicker viciously.

“You’ll be missing this clean cell quicker than you think,” one of them says – but Levi can’t pay him any attention, his eyes focussed on the automatic cuffing system extending around his wrists, binding his arms together.

It’s happening.

It’s _really_ happening.

He’s getting out of the steel coffin. 

Finally, he will leave _The Marie_. He doesn’t even care _where_ he’s going. Leaving this cell is all he ever wanted since the day he was hauled into it. No matter where he goes – it _can’t_ be worse than this hell.

“Sweet dreams, asshole, and enjoy your life on _Calor Vex_ ,” Nile says before he suddenly holds up a small syringe applicator. And the next thing Levi knows, he feels a sting on his neck, the little needle piercing his skin, and a cold, but at the same time burning substance speeds through his veins, making him pass out within not even thirty seconds. 

*

It’s not a particular dream, not a particular voice, not a particular touch that brings Levi back from the darkness. It’s heat. Suffocating, heavy heat, winding around his sweating body.

He’s thirsty.

So fucking thirsty.

And when he takes a deep breath, the air nearly burns his already dry throat, it makes him break out in a fit of terrifying coughs, and it feels like he was ripping his windpipe apart from the inside. His eyes fly open then, as his body is convulsing and his mind is awakening, his senses returning – and none of them are very fond of his current environment.

His vision needs a bit to adjust, the light of wherever he is, blinding him. Makes him want to hold up his hand and shield his eyes, naturally. Only he can’t. Because his hands are bound behind his back. 

“He needs water,” a voice – _male? female?_ Levi can’t tell – reaches his ears.

The other person in the room merely responds with a grunt. And only then, the space around him starts to become visible to Levi, his blurry vision slowly turning sharp again.

He’s on the floor, in a cell. An old cell. Instead of a modern security door, he’s locked behind metal bars. He wasn’t even aware cells like this still existed. 

“He really needs water,” that voice says again, and when Levi looks up, his gaze settles on a person with wide, light brown eyes and dark brown hair that looks like it hasn’t been washed for a while. It’s tied into an unkempt high ponytail with bangs parted down the middle, and Levi still can’t tell whether this person is a man or a woman. “How you doing down there?” the individual asks, smiling widely at Levi. It’s not a vicious, or a sadistic, mocking smile that Levi would usually get from prison personnel. This one seems… genuine. 

A bit creepy too, though. Like a mad scientist’s.

“My name’s Hanji,” the person explains, as Levi calls on every fibre of his being to sit up, and everything fucking aches as he does so. “I’m the head medic of _Sheena_ prison. You’re probably still feeling woozy from the sedative given to you for transportation – and the drastic climate change. It’s a tough combination. So please don’t be worried, if you feel nauseous, or if you feel the need to—”

Before the medic can finish their sentence, Levi’s stomach is already turning, and he only manages to tilt his head to the side before throwing up, the taste of bile on his mouth and the smell of his own sickness making him vomit even more.

“Yeah,” Hanji comments with a flat voice, “I was talking about _that_.”

“I’m not cleaning that shit up,” a gruff, manly voice comments, while Levi’s trying not to lose consciousness again, staring down at his vomit right next to him, some of it having slightly stained his clothing.

“No, but you could finally open the cell so that I can give him some water and medicine,” Hanji tells the man.

“That’s not my job.”

“Then why are you even here?!”

“I wanted to take a look at that motherfucker,” the man responds, and Levi hears him coming closer. Big, steady footsteps. “Yo!” he yells, kicking against the bars with his heavy boot, the sound of the impact making Levi’s head pound. “Look at me, maggot.”

Levi glares up at the man dressed in black cargo pants and a black tank top. He’s a giant. An armed giant with giant muscles and a grim expression on his face similar to Nile’s. But this man’s dark mustache and beard definitely look better than rat-man’s. 

“Michael,” the medic complains, “open up the cell.”

“I don’t have the key card.”

“Then go get it.”

“Go get it yourself,” the man responds, not taking his eyes off of Levi, and Levi instantly hates that guy, “I’m not your lackey.”

“But—”

“Pixis is responsible for the incoming prisoners.”

“But… Wait… Don’t you have the _master_ key card? You’re the head of security, for fuck’s sake!”

“Master key card’s only to be used in emergency situations. This clearly isn’t one.”

“He needs water!”

“Or what? He’ll die instantly? I don’t think so. And even if: That’s not my problem. But yours.”

Hanji groans in frustration, calling for Pixis via their personal intercom. Or rather yelling at him. “Get your lazy, drunk ass to transit cell _A_ right this fucking minute!” And while Hanji continues to tell this Pixis guy what an incompetent fool he is, the head of security is staring Levi down.

“I’ll keep my eyes on you, pet,” he tells him, and Levi grits his teeth, wants to snarl obscenities at this guy. Instead, his stomach’s convulsing – and he starts vomiting again. Even though there is literally _nothing_ left in his belly.

“Shit,” Hanji curses, staring at him. “You hang in there, buddy.” 

Levi feels like shit. Like utter shit. 

The acid is burning his throat, the taste of bile in his mouth is making his belly twist and turn even more, and all of his muscles are sore, and he’s sweating like a pig because the temperatures are fucking tropic, he feels so fucking dirty, and he hasn’t had a sip of water for… For what? How much time has passed since Nile’s given him the injection? And where is he anyway? Where the fuck _is_ Sheena prison?

Nile’s words come back to him.

_Enjoy your life on Calor Vex._

Where the fuck is _Calor Vex_? He’s never heard of this planet before. What the hell is going on, just where in hell _is_ he?

“Fuck,” Hanji hisses, adding some more agitated stuff, but Levi can’t hear their voice anymore, his head pounding, the blood rushing in his ears, his vision turning blurry again – and then he’s back in that vast darkness again.

*

He wakes up in a room much cooler than that old cell, on a bed. Not really comfortable, only much softer than the concrete ground. Fragments of his latest memory, of meeting the medic and the head of security, of puking his guts out, reach his mind. And when he’s fully conscious again, his eyes once more adjusting to the current, very dim lighting, Levi realises that it’s night time, and that the very sparse lighting is, in fact, the light of the moon shining in through that poor excuse of a window without any glass, without any magnetic field, without any other sort of barrier. It’s just an opening high up in that thick wall, secured by heavy, old-fashioned bars, and the cool air of the night is wafting inside; and Levi prays there aren’t any wicked insects or other shit than can just climb into his cell. 

He’s instantly awake at that thought, sitting up on his small cell bed, only now realising that he’s actually shivering from the low temperature of the room, somehow wishing a little of that previous heat back. His mind is swimming a bit again, and his belly starts rumbling, and Levi freezes, the possibility of having to vomit again paralysing him.

But after a second, all is better. At least a little bit. Because he still feels fucking dirty. That’s because he _is_ fucking dirty.

“You’re awake,” the voice of the medic reaches him, and when Levi instantly turns his head to look at Hanji, he sees them rising up from a chair placed in front of his cell, against a bare, concrete wall, switching on a small torchlight, revealing their form, more of the corridor, more of Levi’s small, dirty, old cell, the concrete floor dusty, or is it sand? “You feeling better? I gave you some medicine and a few vaccines.”

“Where am I?”

“I’ll answer your question, if you answer mine.”

“How the fuck do you think I am?” he snaps at them, and Hanji grins.

“Good to see the meds working,” they comment. “You’re in _Sheena_ prison on _Calor Vex._ ”

“Where the fuck _is Calor Vex_?”

Hanji sighs, a big grin plastered across their face. “Let’s just say: It’s somewhere no one would come looking for you.”

“Tch.”

“The first days are gonna be tough for you, the heat of the desert is a hard pill to swallow.”

The desert. Now it suddenly makes sense: The unbearable heat of the day, the bitter cold of the night. The sand on the concrete floor. It’s a first clue.

“The whole planet a desert?” he asks, to get some more answers.

Hanji smiles. “The whole planet’s a shithole,” they suddenly say, sounding slightly amused. Genuine again. 

“I see.”

The medic continues to tell Levi what kind of vaccines they have given him, counting down some of the most common illnesses possible to contract on _Calor Vex_. And even if Levi isn’t _really_ listening – thanks to the vaccines he is now immune to them, after all – he _listens_. Because after being locked up on his own for years, suddenly having someone talk to him for more than just a few _seconds_ , is a _welcoming_ change. 

Shit, Levi, who always considered himself to be an introvert, who always preferred solitude, who would only accept Furlan and Isabel close to him, is actually _starved_ for contact with other beings, human or not. And hearing Hanji go on and on about illnesses and diseases and sick stories of how people died and how they were able to dissect their bodies is… It’s actually really nice. Twisted, but _so_ nice.

“Were you born here?” he asks them, and Hanji breaks out into a fit of insane laughter.

“No one is _born_ here,” they answer, breathless, still laughing, “but everybody _dies_ here.”

“You’re talking too much,” a male voice – Michael’s voice – sounds over Hanji’s personal intercom, a little distorted.

“You’re right, I should let him sleep. Erwin’s gonna work him to the bones.”

Erwin.

“And who’s that?”

“Ah,” Hanji comments, grinning, “you’ll see.”

*

Levi doesn’t really fall asleep that night, the coldness seeping in through the window keeping him awake and shivering, his clothes and the thin, old blanket – probably full of germs, which Levi does _not_ want to think about right now – not enough to keep him adequately warm. He’s grateful though, for the bottle of clean water Hanji’s provided him with, the little portion of dry, white bread which he’s somehow managed to swallow down along with another fist full of pills against the nausea.

They are working.

And as the sun slowly begins to rise, so does the rest of the prison. Sounds of shuffling from the cells on his left and right are reaching Levi’s ears, which are thankfully separated by stone walls and not more of those metal bars. Because as much as Levi is craving contact with other individuals right now, and as much as he is grateful for not being put into isolation again, he really does _not_ harbour the desire to shit in front of other inmates at night when they can’t leave their cells and are forced to use the primitive loos in the corner of each cell. It’s bad enough they are all being watched 24/7 via cameras. But those Levi’s at least learned to ignore.

“Rise and shine!” a deep, male and amused voice echoes through the corridor, and then the lights along the long wall all flick on at the same time, blinding Levi in the first instance, making him curse under his breath. A second later, there’s a row of clicks to be heard, as the cell doors all unlock. Levi watches the little gate slowly slide open, as a man appears right in front of his eyes. A bald old man with a distinguished mustache. His skin is light and he has notable wrinkles under his eyes.

“Good morning,” he greets Levi, smiling, “I’m Pixis.” _The guy the medic was screaming at when Levi first awoke._ “Welcome to _Sheena_ prison!” he says. And Levi decides that the man’s weird, but that he does not dislike him. “I’m responsible for showing you around today, get you acquainted with your new home,” the prison guard adds, huffing out a coarse laugh before he shifts his gaze to look into the cell on Levi’s left. “Good morning, Darius!” he shouts to the man, who is entering Levi’s field of vision now. He’s old, just like Pixis. Maybe even older. Who knows. 

“Mornin’,” he mumbles, looking at Levi. “Welcome to hell, kiddo.”

“Tch.”

Pixis laughs. “Oh, it’s not _that_ bad,” he tries to soothe, waving his hand dismissively.

“That’s because you’re drunk all the fucking time,” remarks another voice, and Levi witnesses a second man emerging into the corridor from the cell to his right. He’s tall and old too, with deep wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes, the circles around them almost as dark as Levi’s top and body hair. “But hey,” the man goes on, taking a look at Levi, “it’s not like he’s unwilling to share. So you’d better be nice to that one, buddy. I’m Nick by the way.”

“Levi.”

“Nice to meet ya. What did you do to be dragged into this godforsaken hole?”

“Now’s not the time for small talk, gentlemen,” Pixis remarks, standing up straight, still smiling, looking like a granddad about to invite his grandkids to gather around the fire to tell one of his fairy tales. “Levi, please follow me.”

*

The good thing about alcohol is that it makes people talkative. This is how Levi learns a lot about his “new home” in a very short span of time, following Pixis down a set of corridors, looking at the washrooms with no privacy at all, but at least with a level of cleanness Levi would be tempted to call decent. Pixis gives him time to take a quick steam shower along with a handful of other inmates, some as old as his cell neighbours, others about his age, in the middle of their thirties, averting their gazes when Levi shoots them his most powerful death glare. The old man provides him with the necessary toiletries, and when Levi finally brushes his teeth, gets rid of the remains of his vomit, he’s so fucking relieved. 

They are wandering into the huge mess hall next, where currently breakfast is being served – stuff that looks just like the mush Levi’s used to from _The Marie_ , but which at least smells better. Pixis hands him a snack bar, and Levi’s grateful. It doesn’t taste so bad. They pass other inmates, all wearing the same neon-orange colours as Levi, with Pixis having provided him with a fresh uniform. They walk by some sort of prison commissary, to then step outside of the old-fashioned prison building into the morning heat that is not yet scorching, but already quite unpleasant. 

Pixis unravels quite a few of the things going on in Levi's mind, as they start walking towards a set of hangars, and Levi’s eyes are already scanning the area under the sun which, surprisingly, is lowly guarded; his mind already conjuring up ten different ways on how to get out of here. 

The answer to why the prison’s borders are hardly guarded, though, is delivered pretty quickly. Along many other answers to questions already haunting Levi’s mind. For instance, how he’s never _heard_ of _Calor Vex_ , when his knowledge of the galaxies and sectors is quite good. Had to be. After all, stealing valuable spaceships and/or ship parts and making a successful escape _requires_ a good knowledge of space.

“ _Calor Vex_ isn’t on any map, my friend,” Pixis explains, taking a sip out of his flask, actually offering it to Levi. And Levi gladly accepts, the bourbon or whatever the fuck it is burning his throat as he swallows it down. It’s the first alcohol he’s had in more than five years. Fuck. He loves it. And hell, he’ll follow Nick’s advice and be on his nicest behaviour when it comes to Pixis. “This fucking planet doesn’t exist. Officially,” the prison employee discloses.

“You’re telling me the federation is hiding a fucking planet?”

“Indeed.”

Levi needs a few moments to grasp the impact of this information. “So, I’m guessing only a chosen few people know about its existence?”

“Correct. This information is only accessible to highest leaders and intelligence members. And, well, to the prison personnel, of course.”

“...but how can you hide a fucking planet? I mean, you can hide a big-ass ship using camouflage technology. But a whole fucking _planet_? That’s impossible.”

Pixis’ grin widens as he’s looking straight ahead, his hands folded behind his back. “Says who?” he then merely comments – and Levi’s flabbergasted.

“You’re shitting me.”

“How else do you explain no one has ever come across it?”

Levi’s silent, the cogs of his brain working. “You’re telling me that the federation has advanced the camouflaging technology and is now able to hide _an entire planet_?”

“It’s not that big, after all.”

“How big is it?”

Pixis chuckles. “Your hunger for knowledge is admirable. But it might also get you killed.”

“Hanji said everybody dies on this planet anyways. I’m getting the hint that I won’t make it out alive here. Am I right?”

The man sighs, taking another sip of alcohol, once again offering it to Levi, who accepts again, despite hating to share a bottle with someone due to sanitary reasons. But he’s learned to make exceptions. This is one.

“We won’t kill you, if this is what you’re afraid of,” Pixis then replies calmly. “But officially, just like any other inmate of this prison, you died on board _The Marie_.”

Levi stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

Pixis stops too, looks him deep in the eyes. “I’m sorry, kiddo. But just like this planet, you don’t exist anymore.”

A cold shiver runs down Levi’s spine despite the warm air surrounding him. “...what?”

“Officially, you’re dead,” Pixis states the obvious, and Levi’s mind is way too busy to actually comment on that. And when the old man offers him another gulp from his flask, Levi gladly accepts. Because he fucking needs it. “If you had any next of kin listed in your file, they know. An official death statement has been sent out to them by the federation, making up an illness or a fight between inmates on board _The Marie_.”

Kenny.

Kenny knows.

And when Kenny knows, so do Isabel and Furlan, because his uncle has always been their secret communications guy, and that’s exactly why he listed him as his next of kin, keeping his siblings out of the system. After all, they were wanted criminals, just like Levi, while Kenny, despite being involved in illegal activities, was not on the federation’s radar.

And now, Kenny, as well as Furlan and Isabel think that he’s dead. And even though Levi knew he’d never see them again, doomed to serve a freaking life sentence after a crooked trial for theft and murder, now the last shards of hope of a possible reunion have been shattered. 

Because they believe that he’s dead.

And Levi _feels_ dead at this moment.

“Oh, chin up!” Pixis mumbles, trying to sound reassuring. “It could be worse. You could actually really _be dead,_ huh?” The man laughs and Levi’s still frozen in place. 

“What else is on this planet?” he hears himself asking. “Besides the prison.”

“Ah,” Pixis sighs, “you’re asking all the right questions.”

“Am I…?”

The old man hums in confirmation. “There’s nothing. Nothing but a huge desert with interesting, flesh-eating sandworms and lizards and other creatures lurking in the dunes and caves. I would not recommend leaving the prison grounds, if I were you.”

And that’s when the poorly guarded, easy to break and easily climbable walls of the prison, seemingly stemming from another era, start to make sense. 

“And how do you stop these creatures from coming _inside_ the prison?” 

“A shield all around the grounds as well as other devices working on solar energy placed around it in case of a power outage.”

“Why are you telling me all about your security?” Levi wonders out loud. “I mean… Knowing what to look for, I could sabotage all the devices and—”

“And then what?” Pixis intejects, huffing out a laugh. “Be eaten alive just like anybody else?” Levi does not respond, and Pixis smiles. “I told you: There’s nothing else. If the prison falls, so do you. Besides, even if you _were_ that suicidal and wanted to make everybody else die along with you, you wouldn’t even be able to sabotage any of the devices. Even with _your_ expertise on hacking and breaking in. This is next level technology, _secret_ technology, son. Before you could even _start_ getting _the slightest_ hang of it, you’d be dead. Shot by one of the guards or eaten by one of the planet’s inhuman inhabitants,” the old man shrugs.

That’s when it fully makes sense why Pixis is telling him _all_ of these secrets.

It’s because Levi’s never getting off this secret planet. It’s a graveyard.

_No one is born here, but everybody dies here._

“That’s why you’re telling me all of this,” Levi says out loud.

The old man shrugs again. 

“Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter whether you know this or _not_. But as you put it correctly: you won’t be leaving this planet alive. Which means that, just like all the other inmates, you will stay here until you die, Levi. Whether it will be of old age, an illness, or a fight depends on you. I just believe that it’s fair that you know the truth about your situation. It makes coming to terms with it a lot easier. And I am sick and tired of newbies trying to make a run for it. Hate watching people being ripped to shreds like this. And trust me: The odour of even the tiniest bit of a corpse in that blaring sun, ugh… You really don’t want to smell that.”

It could all be a lie, Levi wonders, once more looking at those walls surrounding the prison court, picturing the vast desert stretching out behind them. But… It could also be the brutal truth. And in that instant, he hears it: An animalistic growl, a shriek, something like a roar, and deep rumbling in the distance. As if something was breaking through the kind of walls he’s just been looking at, or any other barrier – and then he _sees_ it: That huge-ass worm-like creature with multiple mouths and sharp teeth, shooting up into the sky, around a hundred metres away from the prison border made of stones, like a whale breaking the surface of an ocean, jumping over a wave to disappear in the water again.

And he’s frozen on the spot. His battered brain trying to come to terms with what he’s just seen.

“W-Was that… Was that a h-hologram?” the still doubtful side of his asks, and Pixis, not at all affected by what has just happened, chuckles.

“No, it was not. And even if you don’t believe me, I would kindly ask you to refrain from trying to find out yourself. Because it’s rare that we get new inmates to fill our vacancies, and our head mechanic Erwin needs your help very badly.”

“H-h-head mechanic?” Levi stammers, still staring at that spot where he’s just seen that… thing.

“Yes,” Pixis answers and begins to move again, and Levi’s knees are shaking when he starts to walk to catch up with the guard, asking himself what the hell he is supposed to do to help the mechanic, what type of work he will be assigned to. Because, obviously, this is what’s about to happen.

“Is he a prisoner too?”

Pixis releases a loud, honest laugh. “No. Not Erwin. And I’m not gonna lie kid: The former lieutenant is not gonna go easy on you. Your predecessor used to call him hellmaster.”

“What happened to him?”

The old man smiles softly. “He got eaten by that sandworm you saw.”

“...so he tried to run away from the hellmaster?”

Pixis’ smile does not falter. “Oh no,” he then replies calmly, “Erwin threw him over the wall.”

*

When Pixis opens the side door to the first hangar of many, and Levi takes a first look inside, his mouth drops open and his pulse quickens. If this was a job, he’d be fucking calling it _a jackpot_. 

He spots three different types of hyperspace shuttles from the older _Havoc_ -generation with huge-ass energy tanks, that his clients would pay him millions for, two fighters of the _Zulu_ -class with _zentopyrol-_ torpedos, decommissioned ten years ago and yet still ever so popular among the _Zaroki_ -warlords, and four different types of medium cargo ships, the hull, though old and made of material not used by the federation anymore, practically unbreakable. 

“Fuck,” it slips out of his mouth, uncontrolled, when his eyes finally settle on the most beautiful, old, federal ship. A small _raptor_. The first type of ship Levi had ever stolen as a twelve-year-old from a soldier passing by their village on duty back in the good old days. And he remembers how he took it for a spin before delivering it to Kenny’s friend to dismantle the whole thing, how Furlan, Isabel and him flew over the ocean in the dim moonlight stuffed into the cabin made for only one passenger, one fighter, how swiftly the _raptor_ moved, how smoothly it operated, how fast it was to them. Back then.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” a deep, male voice remarks, and when Levi turns his head to look at the man who’s just said those words, his mouth would drop open again, if it wasn’t hanging open already.

The man is huge, almost as big as that gigantic head of prison security. And he’s blond and buff, too. Though the shade of his hair is much lighter than Michael’s. It’s almost the colour of the sun, and the sharp undercut, forming a nice contrast to his longer, fair strands that are slicked back, suits him. As do his icy blue eyes. And the big, bushy eyebrows. His skin is tanned, as to be expected of someone living and working on this planet for a while, Levi figures, staring at the black smudges on the man’s face, traces of dirt and oil – that lead down his very naked, very trained, very sweaty and very tattooed upper body. 

His broad, bulky, cleanly shaved chest is covered by an eagle with sharp claws and an equally sharp beak, the majestic animal’s wings spreading out to either side, reaching up to the man’s shoulders. His beefy arms are full of mystical symbols. Some of which Levi is able to make out at his first glance stem from old cultures, long dead. But there are others, too. Like that burning circle around the man’s navel, with letters Levi cannot decipher or link to any language he’s seen before. And then again, he can’t really focus on them, due to the blond man’s incredible stomach muscles, a trail of very light hair leading Levi further south over a sculpted, flat abdomen, disappearing under the dark blue working trousers, evidently made of modern safety material. The guy has a thick tool belt wrapped around his trained, broad waist too, and Levi spots a screwdriver, pliers and a small axe. He’s wearing gloves and heavy working boots. And the cogs of Levi’s brain finally stop turning, having arrived at their destination, their conclusion.

This is the head mechanic.

 _This_ is Erwin.

And Erwin is handsome as fuck.

Levi instantly hates him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Auri and Hel for helping me with this! Your feedback is gold!


	2. The hangars

The man’s cold, deep blue eyes remain focussed on Levi, who’s started glaring at the man without even realising it, as the mechanic slowly comes closer.

“Good morning to you, Erwin,” Pixis greets him. The blond doesn’t respond directly.

“ _This_ is Levi Ackerman?” he asks instead, nodding at Levi. And Levi does _not_ like the tone of his voice. Erwin’s sounding as if he was _disappointed_ by his appearance. The tone of the man is mocking; slightly amused and _arctic_ at the same fucking time. And Levi _hates_ men looking down on him like that. Especially military men. Federation whores.

“The one and only,” Pixis responds, taking another sip out of his flask. “Oh, shit. Empty already…”

Erwin scoffs, furrowing his brow, as he halts right in front of Levi, the distance between them totally inappropriate, as if this man had never heard of the term personal space, the fragrance of sweat, oil and something sweet wafting over to Levi from him, as the very tall man’s now _literally_ looking  _down_ on him, stuffing his gloves into the big back pocket of his resistant trousers.

“He’s fucking tiny,” Erwin sneers, speaking to Pixis even though he’s still looking Levi straight in the eyes. And that annoys the fuck out of Levi.

“Oi—”

The vulgar offences Levi was just about to throw into the man’s face are stuck in his throat as the blond suddenly just fucking grabs Levi’s chin with his right hand, pushing his head back roughly, lifting it up, as if wanting to make Levi face him properly; and Levi is not only appalled by this gesture, but also fucking surprised and taken aback by this touch.

Because it isn’t a  _human_ touch. 

Erwin’s human, all right, but his right hand, his right arm, is  _not_ . It looks human, but Levi doubts that it is made of real flesh and bones. Erwin’s grip is a little too tight, even for a strong man. It feels weird, and despite the heat surrounding them, his fingers are cold, the skin, or material  _resembling_ skin, wound around them too soft for the hands of a working man. And from up close Levi can see that Erwin’s right arm is a shade lighter than the rest of his body, which is hard to spot because of all the tattoos.

It’s a robotic arm. A bionic arm.

Erwin clicks his tongue in an annoyed fashion. Not letting go of Levi’s chin, he turns his head to look at Pixis. 

“You sure it’s him?”

“Absolutely.”

“He’s a fucking dwarf.”

And Levi’s fucking  _livid_ . 

At everything. At this man in particular. Or maybe not even that: He just focusses all of his anger on the blond, gruff, unlikeable mechanic, the hellmaster. Because it’s all almost too much to bear. The transfer onto a fucking hidden planet that doesn’t exist in the records, his family thinking that he died on  _The Marie_ , his fate of spending the rest of his life, however long that might be, in a freaking dirty, desert world with disgusting sandworms around the corner and hell knows what else lurking in the fucking hot sand, locked in a relatively small prison, being forced to deal with cocky men like this robo guy here who, from what Pixis told him, is gonna make his life miserable. 

And overall, the  _audacity_ of the man just makes Levi blow up.

“Take your dirty robo hand off me, filthy bastard!” he snarls at the former lieutenant – and delivers a whole-hearted kick to Erwin’s hard stomach, making the man take a step back, flinch, release a gasp, his body bending in half due to the forceful impact. But the kick does _not_ fulfill Levi’s full intention, for the man’s artificial fingers do not let go of his chin. And that’s what causes Levi’s demise. Because not only does Erwin pull Levi forward when the shorter man’s kick pushes him back, hindering the black-haired from delivering a punch because he loses his balance – the blond also retaliates just a second later, using his remaining grip on Levi’s face, practically _hauling_ him through the hanger with a single move of his robotic arm, making him literally _fly_ through the air, his body colliding painfully with one of the shuttles he’s just been looking at, to slump down on the concrete floor next, Levi’s head swimming, his vision turning blurry as he’s about to faint, clinging to his consciousness like a madman.

“Erwin…” he hears Pixis mutter, and then the guard’s voice is blocked out by those heavy footsteps coming closer, and before Levi knows it, that robo hand winds around his windpipe, squeezing down, as the hellmaster lifts Levi’s whole body up by his throat, as if the black-haired weighed nothing, making breathing almost impossible, the pain and humiliation delivered with the anger surging through Levi’s veins making him writhe and hiss. He struggles to ease the pain, his vision still kind of foggy, a natural instinct causing him to pull at Erwin’s artificial fingers in vain, which are still squeezing down on his windpipe and won’t budge. Not even a tiny bit.

The mechanic keeps him up in the air, pressing Levi with his back against the shuttle, as the blond takes a step forward, also making the back of Levi’s head clonk against the hard  _minotaur_ -steel the ship is made of, more pain spreading through his body, his pulse quickening, adrenaline surging through Levi’s veins, as thousands of thoughts are racing through his mind, while those icy blue eyes are boring into his. 

Erwin’s gaze is sharp and piercing, it’s cold and angry, the man’s strength truly inhuman. And Levi begins to understand a few things about him, and how the blond is tied to his own fate. How Levi’s not strong enough yet to fight this man, maybe never will be, and how the hellmaster was able to just casually “throw” Levi’s predecessor far over the wall to his certain death delivered by those merciless jaws of that horrid desert creature – how easy it would be for the man to kill him too. Burst his skull open with those robotic fingers of his, rip out his throat, his heart, tear him to pieces, break his neck with a single twist of his artificial, deadly digits. 

That’s when Levi stops struggling, lowering his hands, until they hang uselessly down to either side of his body, like his feet are dangling near to motionlessly over the concrete. He’s giving up. Because Levi knows when it’s time to give up. 

Erwin scoffs lightly. And finally, the pressure of his fingers around Levi’s throat eases, and he sets him down to the ground, not yet letting go off him completely, though, not yet breaking that intense eye-contact.

“If you ever hit me again, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your miserable life, you worthless piece of shit,” the blond threatens him in a deep, menacing voice. A voice that makes shivers run down Levi’s spine. And he should just take it. Just swallow his pride down and take it, move on, ignore the anger inside of him, his frustrations. Ignore his need to piss the man off. But he can’t. Because even if he _has_ given up the _physical_ fight, it does not mean Levi has surrendered _completely_. He can still try to rile the man up verbally, at least.

“What?” he bites back. “You gonna feed me to the sandworms like you did with the guy before me? I don’t fucking think so. According to Pixis you need me so fucking badly, _baby_. Been waiting for me this whole time so I can help you, huh? Sounds like the head mechanic of this place knows shit about what he’s doing. Huh, _lieutenant robo fuck_? I bet without that little toy of yours I could whip your big ass around this place with ease, knock your head around a bit too, make you cry.”

The grip around his throat tightens, and a new rush of adrenaline courses through Levi’s veins. 

It’s working.

The man’s getting annoyed.

And this is when it becomes clear that Levi actually has  _no_ idea when it’s time to give up. Because now would be a great moment for him to shut himself up. But instead, Levi continues to spit venom.

“You probably begged the federation to give you this arm, so you could finally feel confident about yourself, finally win a fight or two when it’s man against man, huh? Without hiding behind a whole fucking army of federal pansies doing all the fucking work for you, huh?”

Erwin’s grip tightens once again – but that hard expression suddenly changes, going from annoyed to fucking amused, and Levi bites his tongue, because he fucking hates that smug look on the mechanic’s face and the condescending quality it has. The man chuckles then, and Levi despises this sound too.

“It’s funny for you to be using the word _pansy_ like that, when _you_ _are_ in fact one,” Erwin remarks, his every word a taunting jab at Levi’s ego, and the black-haired’s heart starts racing. Because… “Isn’t he?” Erwin goes on, clearly speaking to the older prison guard. “The dwarf likes dick, doesn’t he, Pixis? He’s nothing but a dirty prison bitch.”

“Fuck you!” Levi yells at the man – appalled by that lie. And that portion of truth concerning his sexual preferences uttered at the same time. “Son of a bitch!”

Levi starts to claw at Erwin’s digits once again, all reason obliterated by his pure anger. He starts to send kicks in the direction of the man using both of his legs, but doesn’t reach him, and ends up being lifted off the ground again, his body pressed against the shuttle once more, Erwin’s robotic fingers like talons digging into his skin, while the man looks unbothered, unaffected, actually pretty amused by Levi’s pitiful attempts to hurt him. And that makes Levi even angrier. Just as much as Erwin’s inhuman strength fucking scares him. 

The man tilts his head, looking deeply into Levi’s eyes with a mischievous expression painted on that manly face of the forty-something, his mouth twisted into a devilish grin. He looks like a cat playing with its meal before snapping its neck and crushing its skull into a bloody pulp.

“My mother really _was_ a bitch,” he suddenly answers calmly, his voice playful, “can’t say I’m sorry she died in a shuttle _accident_. Along with all of her _Zahid_ -friends.”

_Zahid._

A group of fighters, a conglomerate of individuals from various races and sectors all across the known galaxies working against the federation, trying to escape its rules, all their activities in the underground deemed illegal. Terrorists, according to the federation.

One of Levi’s finest clients.

He manages a grin. “I’m taking it back,” he utters, breathless, “your mother sounds like a hero to me. Even though she gave birth to an eyesore like you.”

Erwin chuckles coldly. “Heros die young,” he answers. “Are you a hero?  _Dwarf_ ?”

“Fuck you!” Levi hisses – and spits right into the mechanic’s face.

He learns that doing this is a  _grave_ mistake.

Erwin’s expression darkens as Levi’s watching his disgusting saliva slide down the other man’s cheek, a bit of it caught in his thick eyebrow, in his long, blond lashes, too.

“Can I _please_ beat the shit out of him, Erwin?” a familiar, male voice suddenly asks. It belongs to Michael. The head of security. The man’s casually leaning sideways against the _raptor_ , his massive arms folded across his chest, looking at Levi with an expression that can be described as a mixture of boredom and menace.

“Go ahead,” Erwin answers coldly, and an equally freezing shiver chases down Levi’s spine, before the mechanic once more hurls him through the air, the impact on the concrete to Michael’s feet harsh and painful. But it’s nothing compared to the agony that Michael’s fists deliver.

The giant grabs Levi’s hair, ripping out some strands with his thick, very human, but nonetheless very ruthless fingers, hoisting Levi up into a kneeling position, keeping him in place like that, with his knees scraping the dirty hangar floor, while Michael drives his fist into the shorter man’s face over and over again – and there’s  _nothing_ Levi’s already weakened body can do against that. 

Every heavy punch delivered by the giant prison guard knocks the air out of his lungs, the strength out of his limbs, a tooth out of Levi’s mouth, making Levi taste blood, taste sand, taste dirt and oil, as Michael suddenly lets go of his hair and  _kicks_ him in the head, knocks him down on the ground completely, Levi’s face hitting the floor, catching a glimpse of some other prisoners at the end of the hangar, watching the head of security beat the shit out of Levi from a safe distance.

But the last thing Levi sees before darkness swallows him up and he faints, as Michael continues to kick him in the gut, are Erwin’s blue eyes locked on him.

*

“Hey… Hey… Can you hear me…? Kiddo?”

“...I think he’s still unconscious.”

“But he just opened his eyes!”

“Bullshit. You’re seeing things, old man.”

“Yes, because unlike you, I’m _not_ blind!”

“No? And who worshipped an impostor for years? Calling him a saviour and shit?”

“Oh, what the hell do you know?!”

“I know that there is only one hell: this planet.”

Levi groans, the two voices of who Levi thinks might belong to his cell neighbours ringing in his ears.

“See, he’s waking up.”

“Hey, can you hear us?”

Levi’s wants to answer. But his tongue is heavy, he doesn’t feel his lips, and his throat is tight. He only manages to groan again, struggling to crack his eyes open, the lids feeling as if someone had coated them with iron or something heavier. And his head hurts, so fucking much. It’s like someone was trying to break out from the inside of his skull using a jackhammer. And his jaw hurts, his whole fucking face hurts, his stomach hurts, his fucking  _everything_ hurts.

And that’s when his mind begins to work and he’s aware of the source of his pain.

Michael.

_Erwin._

The hangar.

The prison.

_Calor Vex._

His eyes instantly open and he is, indeed, looking into the eyes of Nick and Darius standing over his cell bed. 

“Ah, good,” the latter grunts, “you’re back.”

“Man, they fucked you up real good…” the other old man comments, sighing.

That’s when Levi hears someone running down the corridor.

“What the fuck happened?” the person screams, and Levi instantly knows who is here. Hanji. Bending over him. “Oh, Christ. Seriously?” they lament, talking more to themselves than to Levi. “Gentleman, thanks for calling me. Please return to your cells and let me do my work.”

Nick and Darius do not protest. Shooting Levi another pitiful glance, they move away. And only then, as Levi’s weak gaze follows them, he realizes the other inmates, lingering in the corridor, being shooed away by his cell neighbours.

“Oh, honey,” Hanji sighs, “couldn’t keep your mouth shut, huh?” they mumble as they begin to administer some injections and get out another small device used for stitching up wounds. And Levi has a lot. Freaking everywhere. “You just _had_ to annoy Erwin, huh?”

“...m-mother-f-fucker…” Levi stutters out, but Hanji quiets him down immediately.

“Save the energy for your recovery,” they scold softly, while patching him up. “You’ll be as good as new tomorrow morning,” they promise, and Levi closes his eyes, lets the medic do their work. “Get some rest now.” 

*

The loud clicking of the cell door locks and the subsequent opening of the doors jolts Levi awake. And as soon as he stirs, pain surges through his body. Though it isn’t as bad anymore as it was before, when he awoke for the first time after his severe beating. 

“Motherfucker,” he curses, and sits up, a little dizzy still, needing to close his eyes again and count till ten, until he finds the courage to stand up. And when he does, and he opens his eyes again, Pixis is standing right in front of his cell. Smiling that weirdly friendly smile of his again.

“Good morning!”

Levi grunts.

“You look like shit,” Darius states, walking past Levi’s cell, “but at least you don’t look _dead_ anymore.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Levi still _feels_ dead. And he _is_ dead, on some sort of level, Pixis’ revelations echoing in his head as he drags himself towards the cell door.

“Since we haven’t properly finished our tour yesterday,” the bald guard says, “I suggest you meet me out in the court after you are done with your work.”

“I’ll take him to the mess hall,” Nick offers. “Show him the breakfast ropes.”

“I need a shower first,” Levi protests, halting and scanning his cell for the towel given to him by Pixis.

“You don’t,” the old prison guard suddenly states vehemently. Levi raises a brow and the man just smiles. “Erwin wants you down in the hangar right now. Grab a breakfast bar on your way and hurry to your boss.”

“Tch. I’m not going back there. Find someone else to do it. I’m not a mechanic anyways. I don’t fucking get how I’m supposed to help that bastard with anything. What the fuck is he even doing? And _is_ he even a real mechanic? As a former lieutenant? What the hell is wrong with this place?”

The smile doesn’t leave Pixis’ face, though his tone turns frosty. “I’m afraid you don’t have a say in this, Levi.” Their gazes meet, and the guard continues to speak calmly but sternly to the prisoner with raven-black hair. “And I would suggest you get your ass to the hangar right the fuck now, before I call Michael to beat you into a bloody pulp again. Okay? We also do not want Erwin to throw you over the wall. Do we?”

Levi’s silent for a while, fighting the rising anger inside of him, the despair, too. But the memory of Erwin’s steel-hard grip around his throat and Michael’s fist bashing his face in, his right upper molar missing now, make him realise that _protest_ might really not be the best way to solve this situation. A situation that cannot be solved anyways. 

He has no other choice but to obey. To do what is asked of him, if he wants to live. And he does. Even if Levi doesn’t yet understand what he is supposed to do, why there is a hangar full of old federal ships on the prison grounds, and why exactly this planet is kept a secret.

But fuck, he’s gonna find out. 

If it’s the last fucking thing he does during his miserable, piss-poor life.

Grunting – that little spiteful determination to find out what’s going on, working like a little refill of fuel on his body – Levi steps out of his cell, stomping down the corridor, the small number of other inmates of his cell block jumping out of his way, sensing his raging anger – or maybe it’s the grim look on his severely beaten face, that’s still hurting like bitch despite Hanji’s thorough and quick treatment. Maybe it’s the look of his stitched-up wounds all across his revealed arms too, because thankfully he was given a tanktop to wear instead of t-shirt; and in this heat less clothing is paramount.

“You’re going the wrong direction,” Pixis’ words reach him, and Levi grunts again.

He fucking hates this.

*

Pixis accompanies him to the hangars, but this time, as he drinks, he doesn’t offer Levi any of this flask’s contents.

“Sorry,” he mentions, witnessing Levi’s uncontrolled longing look, smiling, “Erwin told me he’s going to kill the both of us, if you turn up at work with the slightest amount of alcohol in your blood. And I don’t know about you, but _I_ really _like_ my life.”

Levi scoffs, though his anger is minimal. Because the old man gives him a great opportunity to advance, considering his personal reconnaissance mission. 

“So, does every inmate work here?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Somehow, Pixis is not as talkative as he was the day before. Maybe the man hasn’t had enough liquor yet? _Or someone told him to shut his mouth._

Erwin?

Michael?

“Who runs this prison anyway? I mean: Who’s the big boss?”

Pixis smiles. “The federation runs this prison.”

Levi rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue in an annoyed fashion. “But who’s the head of this prison? The director? Who can I complain to, if shit annoys me?”

Pixis begins to laugh wholeheartedly. “You can complain to all of your imaginary friends. I bet after five years in isolation you’ve made _plenty_ of them.”

The comment hurts almost as much as Michael’s punches do, and Levi stops himself immediately from recalling all of his soliloquies, his hallucinations of Furlan and Isabel. Because now is not the time to bathe in self-pity. It’s also not the time to break out into another fit of anger.

“And here I thought I was starting to like you…” he simply mutters, mockingly.

“And here I thought you were the type of person not to be fooled by a smile...”

“Tch. I was blinded by that pretty flask of yours, that’s all.”

The old man chuckles delightedly. “Ah, it is quite pretty, I agree. It was a gift. From my father.”

“So, alcoholism runs in the family…”

Pixis laughs again, suddenly holding out the flask to Levi, smiling. “I guess one sip won’t hurt ya…”

It’s tempting. But when Levi thinks about lieutenant robo fuck’s bionic arm and how those steel-hard fingers felt wound around his fucking throat, how that man hauled him through the air as if he was made of paper, he can practically see himself being thrown against a shuttle yet again, if Erwin were to sniff any alcohol on his breath. And as much as he wants to disobey that blond, tall bastard, he decides not to; because he’s still hurting all fucking over.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

Pixis hums, taking a sip himself, as they approach the hangars. 

“Eren,” he then suddenly remarks, making Levi glance at him. “Eren Krüger. He runs the prison.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Why would you have?” Pixis comments, chuckling.

It makes sense. Why would a well-known federation-man be running a secret prison on a secret planet, huh?

“What kind of work do we have to do as inmates?” Levi tries again.

“You want to know what you’re going to do for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah… That, too.”

Pixis smiles. “You’ll find out soon enough,” the man says, stopping in front of the hangars, looking at Levi. “Have a great day, son,” he chirps.

“Yeah, whatever…”

*

When Levi enters the hangar, Erwin’s not the first person he comes across, but another inmate. Obviously waiting for him, glaring at him, when the black-haired thief emerges. And Levi’s not a racist – but he really does _not_ feel comfortable around members of the _Belthari_ , with their third eye on their huge forehead, blending into an armored crest, that makes them look like late ancestors of an Earthian Triceratops. But the only other trait this species has in common with that extinct dinosaur is their massive, otherwise humanoid body on two legs, with which they can easily crush any of their enemies, while they also love to use their hard crest with those little vicious horns at the edge to slice their opponents open. 

Levi’s fought a _Belthari_ once. The scar running across his stomach is an ugly memento. He doesn’t want to fight one again.

“What’s up,” he says, trying to sound casual.

The _Belthari_ shoves the pile of clothes he’s been holding on to against Levi’s chest. “Your working clothes. Get changed and then go to hangar B. The boss is waiting.”

“And where is—?”

Levi doesn’t get to finish his question, the dino-man has already turned on his heels and stomped away, as if Levi had angered him by just _existing_.

“Delmar hates talking to other people,” another, unfamiliar voice explains, and Levi instantly turns his head to look at another humanoid creature approaching him. 

This man is a _Gurhal._ A lizard walking on two legs without a tail, once could say. The skin on his face looks like the dry desert ground and Levi’s instantly envious. For the _Gurhal_ ’s home planet is a desert world just like this one, and individuals of this species are used to the environment, their bodies evolved over centuries to last in this goldarnet heat, cool their own temperatures down accordingly, heat them up during the cold desert night. “I’m Khas.”

“Levi.”

Khas’ huge round eyes scan him thoroughly. “You’re that thief, aren’t you?”

“I’m _a_ thief. Was.”

Khas chuckles. “I heard about you.”

“Did you…” It’s actually no surprise, really.

“So, where are your friends? You were a trio, weren’t you?”

“You’re asking too many questions. How about you answer one of mine first?”

“You want to know the way to hangar B?” Khas taunts him.

Levi scoffs. “That, too.”

“I’ll show you, if you are willing to talk.”

“About what?”

“About you.”

Levi raises a brow. 

He’s happy to talk to others, finally, yeah. But this isn’t the playground, and not even a bar. This is fucking prison, and the other inmates aren’t automatically your friends. Most of them have an agenda, most of them can be your worst enemy, even if you’re in the same boat.

“And what the hell do you want to know about me?”

“Everything.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because for the past year we haven’t had a new inmate coming in, at least not one that wasn’t eaten by sandworms on the first day, and I’m sick and tired of speaking to the same bastards every single fucking day. I know all of their lame-ass life stories, and I don’t know if you realized, but in this shithole there’s basically nothing to do to pass the time, so will you please just do me the favour and… _talk_ to me?”

Levi scoffs. Khas could be telling him the truth. He could also be lying. And asking about Furlan and Isabel makes Levi think that Khas could even be a fucking spy for the prison guards, the prison director. After all, his friends are still wanted criminals and information about their whereabouts is valuable for the federation.

“They are dead. My accomplices,” he thus tells Khas, who is leading him to the changing room of the hangar. 

“Oh, sorry, man. That sucks.”

“It does.”

“You were on _The Marie_?”

“It’s _my_ turn to ask questions. Since you know why I’m here, tell me: What did _you_ do to end up here?”

Khas releases a fit of dirty laughter, before politely turning around to let Levi put on his working outfit without him staring. It’s a similar type of working pants Erwin wore yesterday. But his are orange. Of course. In all the centuries of human advancement one thing remained the same. That hideous colour for incarcerated criminals. Levi hates it.

“Bastards caught me smuggling stolen federal weapons, in the _Thirae_ -sector.”

“I see.”

The federation despises smugglers. Drugs they can forget. Weapons as well as other parts of their technology… not so much.

“So, were you on _The Marie_ or not?”

“I was.”

“So—”

“My turn again,” Levi remarks, zipping up his pants, starting to put on his heavy working boots. Khas sighs, but lets Levi talk. And the raven is inclined to ask the big question, as to thy this planet is being fucking hidden. But he knows he has to take baby steps, and so he holds himself back. “What kind of work do we do here?”

Khas scoffs. “They really didn’t tell you shit, huh?”

“They _beat_ the shit _out_ of me…” Levi jokes dryly, making Khas laugh again.

“Yeah, I saw. But I gotta tell you: You lasted pretty long. I saw others passing out just because of Smith throwing them against some shit.”

“Smith?”

“Erwin.”

“Oh.”

Erwin Smith. Now, Levi has a full name.

It’s a piece of information. One Levi does not yet know what to do with. But he has it. And that’s a start.

“On board _The Marie_ …” Khas continues, “did you happen to meet another inmate, a _Gurhal_ just like me, he—”

“I was in solitary confinement since day one,” Levi interjects, as they are already walking through the double doors at the end of the first hangar, and Levi’s eyes widen as they enter the second hangar that is even larger than the first, and which holds something Levi was sure he’d never see again. 

It’s a classic, almost like that _raptor_. It’s a _876-Cruiser._ A medium-sized warship the federation mainly used during the attacks on the dark planets of _Mezhla_ around a hundred years ago. Big enough to fight on its own, not needing the fleet or any escort ships, and the technology on board, though old, is something many would still be willing to sell their own mother for. Because it’s rare. The parts beautiful and still fucking useful, if you integrate them correctly into the system of a modern starcraft. If you—

_Wait._

Levi stops dead in his tracks, making Khas stop too, stop talking as well, looking at Levi who is staring at the cruiser. Blinking. His first thoughts about this prison and the contents of its hangars slowly falling into place. 

“You all right, buddy?” Khas asks, and Levi averts his gaze to look at the lizard-man again.

“Yeah, sorry. Just… A rare ship to see,” he says, pointing to the cruiser. Khas chuckles.

“Get used to it,” he says, starting to walk again.

“Khas,” Levi says, immediately catching up with him, “what is it exactly that we are supposed to do here? What is our work?”

Khas opens his mouth, but it’s not his voice Levi hears.

“Why don’t _I_ tell you that?” another man asks. 

It’s the mechanic. It’s Erwin. Erwin Smith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, if you're enjoying this fic - please let me know :)
> 
> The half of chapter 3 is already done and, of course, it will not be the last BECAUSE I CAN'T LEEP IT SHORT. So... This fic will PROBABLY have five chapters...
> 
> Stay tuned and thanks for your support so far!
> 
> And once more: Special thanks go out to Auri and Hel <3 Your support makes me so happy!


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